


Pink Skin

by Qzeebrella



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Other Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-03
Updated: 2008-06-03
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qzeebrella/pseuds/Qzeebrella
Summary: Shran enjoys a little down time by entertaining thoughts of his pink skin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: written for masturbation month in May  


* * *

I step into my quarters and my eyes are immediately drawn toward the blue opaque glass of my scouring cubicle. With memories of my latest encounter with the pink skin fresh in my mind, I strip off my clothes and stride toward the six sided cubicle. I press a button at the door and step inside as scent begins to fill the chamber. The scents of melting snow, old ice and spring rain. Scents that never fail to get an Andorian maleâ€™s blood pumping.

I remember the pink skinâ€™s aggressiveness and my antennae wiggle in anticipation. I pick up the scouring brush and deliberately picture my last meeting with Captain Archer. The pink skin was glorious, stepping right into my face with fists clenched and voice growling with suppressed anger. Te very picture of a dominant male in rut approaching another dominant. I tap the brush handle against my upper thorax three times, imitating the claiming stroke and my antennae begin to tingle. I hiss and stretch my body, flexing my muscles and baring my teeth in the challenge. I slide the brush bristles from thorax to abdomen and back, their slightly rough feel scratching my skin.

I step back to rub my back against the wall, its firmness almost like what I suppose the pink skinâ€™s thorax would be like. The scents all around me get stronger, deeper and their bitter tang makes me take in a deep breath. The musk of Andorian male, the stink of snow mould and mildew, with a hint of fresh ice rain mixed together tantalizing my nose. I recall the copper, salty, somewhat sour scent of the pink skin and rub my back against the wall again, aroused by scent memory.

I growl a challenge as I rub the brush bristles up and down my torso vigorously. My antennae curve backwards, nearly laying flat against my head as I remember the growl in Archerâ€™s voice. I keep rubbing my thorax and abdomen with the brush in my one hand, as I press the knuckles of my other hand against my pelvic bone. The slight scratching of the brush bristles taunting me with thoughts of the pink skins nails, the grinding of my knuckles encouraging the pelvic muscles to loosen and allow the slit there to open. I moan as my hard cock begins to descend through the slit, its slickness sliding down. I slide my knuckles against the emerging hardness and the top of the slit and the slit clenches hard before releasing the last of its treasure. I moan as I scrape my fingernails along its length and it twitches upward. I picture Archerâ€˜s face flushing with pink anger and wrap my hand around my length, clenching hard.

The firm wall against my back, the scratch of the brush bristles on my upper body, my hand clenched around my hard length, all combined make me react as if I were truly being held by another dominant male. I growl and writhe as if trying to struggle free. I bare my teeth and hiss as I begin to thrust into my clenched fist. My nose and antennae twitching as the musk all around me gets stronger with my arousal. 

I start thumping my upper body with the brush handle as I picture the pink skin consumed by angry triumph. He would clench his fists and he would thump the final claiming rhythm over my thorax, from right to left, top to bottom, over and over again as we struggle against each other. I start tugging on my cock, my clenched fist nearly brutal as I fight against the arousal. I inhale as my body tenses as if in the midst of a fight. I hiss with frustration, rubbing harder, faster, until I lose myself in thoughts of the pink skin. For a moment he is there and I growl in triumph as my hardness sprays musk and semen everywhere. I gasp and lightly rub the brush all over my body, giving it a chance to cool down. My antennae wiggle slowly, stretching just a little in post orgasmic contentedness as they come out of their backward arch. 

I smile. And make plans. For one day the pink skin will be mine. He just doesnâ€™t know it yet.


End file.
